


Armor

by SachikoKuroichi



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Can also be read as platonic - Freeform, M/M, but I'll probably write the rest of it someday, pre!Dante/Vergil, then it's gonna be Dante/Vergil for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SachikoKuroichi/pseuds/SachikoKuroichi
Summary: ~*~Fighting him should be easy. But it wasn’t. His body remembered the dance, how to evade every hit, how to land blow after blow himself. But again, it was slightly off. The man in front of him acted familiar and so unfamiliar at the same time. It infuriated him. He was powerful! He’d been created to be powerful! How dare this abomination in front of him to defy him like that? While he wore the face of someone he knew!~*~During the events of DMC1: Nelo Angelo gets his memories back and frees himself from his armor; what are his plans from here on?
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dear readers and welcome to hell~  
> Inspiration for this FF came from the wonderful song "Armor" performed by "Landon Austin"  
> For everyone interested (I also suggest listening to it while reading the first chapter of this story) - here's a YT-link:  
> https://youtu.be/xXgp-00Hwu0
> 
> Have fun with this little thing <3  
> Kudos are very much appreciated and give me life~  
> Comments are always pretty overwhelming to me (I'm so sorry everyone who ever was brave enough to write me - I'll write a response to all of them - I promise!) - but don't get me wrong - I love them too! I'm always letting out a fangirl screech when I receive them  
> Love ya all - stay safe <3  
> And while you're at it - check out the wonderful cover my bby girl gummibeere drew for this story!

* * *

Everything was a blur to him. Minutes bleeding into hours, turning into days, weeks, months. He wondered how much time had passed since he felt something else than all this pain. This cold sensation, rattling his bones. Broken, without a meaning, without purpose in this existence. What was he? Who was he? Where? And most importantly: why was he? Was there some greater scheme he wasn’t aware of?

Voices. One female. He had the slight feeling that he should know this voice. Sweet, gentle, important to him. But there was also something whispering to him that it was not quite right. Something was off.  
The other voice always inflicted pain. He was afraid every time it spoke. But it felt wrong, like he wasn’t supposed to be afraid. Like it was wrong for being able to be afraid in the first place.  
But this voice was always taking everything from him again, buried every thought underneath tons of pain. The cold was consuming him and every oh so tiny piece he’d been able to get back was lost again.  
  
Until he appeared.  
Setting foot on this godforsaken island, with his weird humour, as well as his ridiculously huge sword strapped to his back. It was enough to wake something within him.  
It wasn‘t until he faced the stranger the first time that he recognized what it was. Memories.  
Memories of long-lost times. The man in front of him was not what he had expected. There was no juvenile humour, no familiar sword, nothing he’d thought he would encounter. But the eyes, piercing blue, and the hair, white as snow, were the same. Maybe not exactly, but similar enough. He knew that something was missing, he just couldn’t pinpoint what it was. And of course, the coat. It was a different one, but just one person in this whole universe could think that red was a good choice to wear. Red leather. He didn’t know why. Why would someone choose to wear red if they could just wear blue instead?  
He stopped. Blue? Where did this come from? Was he fond of this colour? But he’d never wore something blue in his whole existence.  
Those weird memories had to be false. Implanted into his mind by this false demon in front of him. He’d kill him and then those sensations would stop.  
  
Fighting him should be easy. But it wasn’t. His body remembered the dance, how to evade every hit, how to land blow after blow himself. But again, it was slightly off. The man in front of him acted familiar and so unfamiliar at the same time. It infuriated him. He was powerful! He’d been created to be powerful!  
How dare this abomination in front of him to defy him like that? While he wore the face of someone he knew!  
Again he had to stop. He knew? There was nothing he knew. Nothing except for pain. His whole existence was just pain and cold.  
He came to know that this wasn’t quite right anymore. There was something bubbling right underneath his armor. But it didn’t matter. He had to fight. This one was a copycat and he wouldn’t tolerate that!  
  
Their encounter got cut short, hindering him from accomplishing his task. How he hated this guy already. Who did he think he was? To cause him so many problems! He should just die already!  
  
Those thoughts came to a sudden halt the moment he got a glimpse of his amulet. Memories broke free from their prison, started to fill his mind, causing him unimaginable pain. But it was nothing compared to the pain he had to endure to become this. Now, that he finally was able to remember.  
  
This man in front of him wasn’t a copycat. It was his dear twin. His foolish, little brother, again trying to save the world. Because he and Mundus were a threat to it. It hurt to be the enemy once again. And this time it wasn’t even out of his own volition.  
But right now it didn’t matter. He had to get through to him. He needed to make his brother understand. That he wasn’t his enemy. Not anymore.

  
He tried to speak, but after so long not muttering a single word, his body simply forgot how to. Instead he let out an aggressive growl.

Fuck.  
His brother wasn’t having any of it, throwing himself into the next attack. He tried to dodge, to parry, to not get hit, but not counter attacking either. Maybe it would help to get this goddamn armor off. But how should he communicate his plan to his twin? He wasn’t listening anyway.  
  
He never had been bulletproof. He had been just good at dodging them, evaded getting hit by them. Not that he knew how he managed to do that. His brother was a great shoot. The bullets buried themselves into his armor, piercing right through it, into his flesh. It burned, but it still was nothing compared to the pain he felt from being so helpless. Being out of control.  
He threw himself into every attack, trying to get him to slice the armor off him, piece by agonizing piece.  
The pain was blinding, breath taking, but it didn’t matter.  
He had to see this through. He couldn’t afford to fail.  
Blood was pooling underneath where he stood, nearly causing him to slip and fall. He couldn’t risk it. As soon as he would be on the ground, his brother would end him.  
He couldn’t lose. Not right now. Not like this. He had to make this right. He needed to get through to him. Needed to tell him all the things he never dared to say.

  
“Free me from this hell, I’ll kneel in front of you and await your judgement.” He wanted to say, to scream it into his face, but there was no sound coming over his lips.  
It was driving him insane. How difficult could it be to just scream his agony, his pain out into the world?

  
Another part of his armor fell, this time from his arm, causing the body underneath to bleed, adding to the absurd amount on the floor. How he was still standing and moving was beyond him. He should already be dead.

  
His twin was apparently not that much troubled by that fact, still attacking relentlessly, shedding piece after piece from his armoured body. But his face was still covered by this absurd helmet. Maybe if he could shed it, maybe then he would be able to speak. But how should he do this? His hands were still armoured. Not able to provide such delicate movements to rip it off cleanly. Besides that, he hadn’t any time to try.

His twin was pretty persistent. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible it seemed.  
  
He needed to stall some seconds. He wouldn’t need long. He didn’t need to rip it off cleanly, he just needed it to be off his face. So he could talk to him.  
He let out a frustrated sound, causing his brother to halt for a moment.

Exactly what he needed.

He threw his weapon at him, causing him to roll out of the way. Not that he had wasted a second to watch, he just knew that it had happened. Instead he’d gripped the biggest remaining part of the armor and pulled.

  
A piercing cry echoed over the island, sounding like agony, pain, plain despair. It took him some time to recognize that it was he himself producing those sounds.

He heard a faint “What the fuck?” from his twin, but he wasn’t able to concentrate on it.  
  
Ripping it off was agony, the pain draining him of all energy he’d left, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to succeed.  
He hadn’t enough power left.  
He was too weak. Was too pathetic. He couldn’t do it. He’s going to fail. Fail him. Fail his brother.  
He screamed his frustration out, even as all the blood clouded his vision and threatened to drown him.

But the very second he reached the point of giving up, two hands joined his, slipping underneath with ease and he felt how his twin immediately got a good grip, even with all the blood making it slippery.

Before he even could attempt to brace himself for the incoming pain, the biggest remaining piece of his prison was gone.

  
The first thing he noticed was how blinding the light was, just seconds before his brain caught up with the pain.  
A tortured scream escaped him, not that he had tried to keep it in in the first place. But it was the first time in whoever knew how long that he heard his own voice.

  
“Vergil...? How...? What?”  
Right. He was not alone. His brother was with him. And he had given him the last remaining piece that had still missed. His name.

  
“Da... nte...”  
His voice was broken, rough, but at least it was his own voice again. Not the distorted voice of this abomination Mundus had turned him into.  
His thoughts, his voice, his words. And soon again, also his body. But first they needed to kill this wannabe king of hell.  
  
But his body was tired, as was his mind. The fight, the pain, the emotional toll, everything had left him drained of all energy. The adrenaline was fading.  
  


“It’s fine, you don’t need to tell me yet. Rest. I’ll take care of this piece of shit who did this to you.”

Vergil felt panic rising inside of him. He couldn’t let Dante face Mundus alone! He would lose him.

“Dante… no…”

But his twin was having none of that.

“Don’t worry. There’s no way I'm gonna lose. I’ll be back in no time. Then we’ll get the hell out of here. We’ll go home, start over. Free of this bullshit. How does this sound?”

Those words caused Vergil to go still. Nothing was moving inside his mind. It was everything he ever wanted. But he’d to get tortured by Mundus, torn apart and put together all wrong first to finally get it.

That his twin was everything to him.

He finally was able to admit it, even if it was just to himself. Dante was the only reason for him to endure all this torture. Thoughts of him were the only thing keeping him going, trying to keep his sanity.  
To never surrender to the pain.  
To keep fighting.  
Even when he wanted to give up and give in so badly at the end. Without Dante he would be dead now. He would’ve become a brainless marionette and would’ve gotten himself killed by his brother in the end. Which would’ve caused him so much pain and that was nothing that Vergil had ever wanted for his beloved twin.

“Too good to be true. I should come…”

“We can go hunting together countless of times in the future. But you need to heal first. Put a little bit of faith in me, will ya?”

Oh, how Vergil would like to put all his faith into him, he really wanted to, but he’d fought Mundus once, he knew how strong he was. But when he wanted to tell him exactly that, he took in Dante’s appearance once again.

He looked so much older, stronger, more experienced than he had on the top of Temen-ni-gru where they had fought years ago. Vergil just nodded.

“Be right back, don’t miss me too much while I’m gone, yeah?”

Words, spoken in jest, cut into him like weapons never could. For a very dark second he thought that Dante would never know how much he’d missed him until today. But then he came to the conclusion that nobody could understand his pain better than his own twin.  
If not even better.

He’d probably mourned his loss for the last years he’d been trapped and tortured. He’d never known how much time had passed, was just living for some short moments of peace, just for himself, to get himself back together, to brace himself for the next assault. Dante had to live through all this time consciously.  
Vergil was the one that didn’t know what it meant to miss the other one.

  
There were noises of fighting, the feeling of powerful forces clashing, but Vergil was just sitting here, waiting for his twin’s return.

He focused on healing himself, trying to get in touch with his demonic power again, but Mundus still had some power over him, even now with most of the armor off.

He then decided to get even the tiniest of the still remaining parts off. It wasn’t that painful, not compared to the pain the bigger pieces had caused him, and it helped. But he still was tainted.

Corruption was cursing through his body, like poison, it wanted to finish him off. But his healing was still able to keep it in check.  
For now.

His demonic power was mostly dormant again, like it had been a long time ago. So long that Vergil wasn’t even able to remember it properly. Sleeping probably would’ve helped, but he wasn’t taking any risks.

He knew that Dante wasn’t sloppy with this kind of thing, killing demons was his job after all, but there was always the possibility that Mundus sent some to get him back, now, that he couldn’t summon him anymore.

  
Time passed, even when Vergil couldn’t tell how much exactly, when he felt the final change inside of him. The last bit of control over him started to fade.

Did that mean…?  
Did Dante really accomplish what he wasn’t able to all those years ago?

  
Hope started to fill Vergil’s chest. Hope to see his twin again, probably beaten up badly, but still alive.

What he definitely hadn’t expected was the company of an artificial demon that wore their mother’s face.

“Dante, what-“

“Vergil, meet Trish. Trish, this is my brother Vergil.”

Said brother was at a loss for words. Why was this demon not dead? Why did he keep her at his side? Did he plan on taking her home with them? Letting her accompany them? He wouldn’t accept that!

“As I’d love to meet the guy behind the armor, we probably should get off of this island before it blows up all around us.”

Their escape was as silly as it was incredible. Where did Dante learn to fly a plane? And why did he have to share one seat with him?  
They were obviously way too big to share!

They should’ve just left this sad excuse of a demon on that island! But his stupid brother seemed to be happy about the situation. Being able to cuddle his big brother and bring him back home. So Vergil just gave in and succumbed (submitted) to his fate.

They were able to get away just in time to see the island explode from a safe distance. That was really last minute.

“Next time we should try not to book our flight last minute, huh?”

Vergil just groaned.  
His brother may had changed on the outside, but on the inside he was the same jokester as all those years ago. But maybe that was just what both of them needed to have a chance to work together.  
Being the two sides of a coin.  
Being the shadow to his light.

But first he had to get better. Physically as well as mentally.  
He needed to work on himself to be able to work on their broken relationship.

Dante was a kind-hearted fool, who probably already had forgiven him, or at least would do so in the foreseeable future. But Vergil knew that his twin deserved better than that. The time under torture made him see what was really important.

It let him realize that his twin was everything he needed for a happy life. No amount of power could give him what Dante was able to provide him just with his sole existence. He never needed more power in the first place.

The only thing needed to become strong was someone to protect. Someone dear to him.  
Dante made him see that. He already was strong enough to defeat Mundus just to avenge him (and save the world of course). No demon could ever be strong enough to harm them when they fight together, to keep each other safe.

  
Vergil started to wonder how his life would look like if he would’ve been able to come to this conclusion way sooner, before he made the decision to fall into hell.

Would he be living a happy life with his twin? Running his funny little business together? Hunting demons? Would he also live there, or would he have a place on his own? But would he really have realized how much Dante means to him that way? That he was his whole world? The only reason of his existence?

Probably not.

  
Trish left them the very moment they landed on solid ground, leaving the twins to themselves.

“I’ll come visiting when I’m done seeing the world, promised.”

Vergil couldn’t care less where she was, as long as she wasn’t around them. Dante seemed a little bit worried though. Not that he showed it for long.  
Just moments later he turned around and looked at him.

“Let’s go home. We should order some pizza, shower and then get some rest. Tomorrow we decide on what to do next.”

Vergil just nodded and let Dante do however he pleased.

He was just glad to be still allowed to be at his side. Besides that he already knew what he needed to do next.  
He needed to find his sword again.

Yamato would be able to cut the foreign power out of him. His beloved katana was able to cut through everything after all.  
It would be no hassle at all to get rid of this poisonous thing.  
He just needed to find her quick. To not give this situation any chance to get worse.

But how should he tell his twin that? He for sure wouldn’t want him to leave again. To get Yamato back.

After all he had absolutely no reason to trust him with her. His brother had no way of knowing his change of heart and Vergil was way too afraid of his reaction at this point to tell him.  
There was just one way of doing this.  
He had to sneak out when he was sleeping.

How Vergil hated what he had to do right now, but there was nothing he could do about it. It had to be done.

_This time is gonna be the last one, I promise. Please wait for me, brother._


	2. Chapter 2

He’d considered leaving some kind of message, but there was simply no time to waste. He was still able to feel a very distant pull of his weapon, after all the time fighting with her, she felt like an extension of his body, of his very soul, but Vergil still didn’t know how much time exactly had passed since he lost her and he couldn’t risk to lose this connection. He wouldn’t be able to find her then. And he really didn’t want to think about how to get rid of the corruption otherwise. It would be way more complicated and he absolutely had no time for that.

After all, he needed to concentrate on making up all his mistakes to his brother. He wanted to be better.   
To mend their broken relationship. To maybe evolve it even further. 

Vergil shook his head. This wasn’t the time for dreaming about a future with Dante. Now, he needed to get back to his strong self. He had a task to accomplish.

His connection to Yamato led him to a faraway island. One, that he knew all too well. He’d been here once before he’d raised Temen-ni-gru.

Fortuna.

How did Yamato end up here anyway? Vergil couldn’t fathom a single way, but ultimately didn’t care at all. He just wanted her back.

To get to her exact location and get rid of all the hindrances on his way there was more tiresome than he liked to admit. But he had to cut himself some slack here, as there hadn’t been any time to rest properly since he’d left the Devil May Cry.   
The last thing he ate had been the pizza Dante ordered for them and his body was still damaged and corrupted.

  
He found his beloved sword in pieces.

A sight that hurt Vergil on a deep level. She was the perfect reflection of his own self. Shattered into tiny pieces, broken beyond repair.

The strong son of Sparda wanted to curl himself up and just die there at this very moment. But he didn’t allow himself to indulge in his selfishness.   
He needed to try.   
He’d vowed to get better. For Dante. For their future. So he took the biggest piece, which happened to be one with her hilt, into his hands and tried to feel her power. He tried to tap into her might.

Vergil closed his eyes and listened closely, hoped that she would answer his call.

She was his oldest familiar, his mentor, the closest to a friend he ever had. To think that he possibly had lost her because of his stupidity, his pride, his own foolishness… Vergil didn’t know if he could live with that knowledge.

  
But there… a slight flicker… she was weak, but still there. Maybe it would be enough. Enough to at least fix him.   
For Dante.   
He deserved him at his peak, not a shadow of his own self, corrupted and broken. 

_Please, help me. Free me of the consequences of my past mistakes. Give me the chance of becoming a better man. A better brother. For him._

With those pleas in mind, Vergil pierced himself with the remnants of Yamato.

Blinding, white-blue light illuminated the underground laboratory, a shock-wave shattered glass and destroyed everything in its reach.

In midst of all this stood a figure, katana in hand. No cracks or lines of corruption to be seen anymore. The wounded body fully healed, the once shattered blade back to its former beauty. The warrior and his weapon were back, fully healed and back to former glory.

Vergil couldn’t even try to put everything he felt into words. It really had worked! Yamato really had listened to his pleas. His reawakened power was even able to repair her and bring her back to him.

Now he had everything to start a new life with Dante. His power, his weapon, his newfound feelings and discoveries. He was ready to try. To atone for his sins.

  
To get back to the Devil May Cry required nothing more than a portal, but Vergil was kinda nervous. He wanted some time to think about how he could accomplish his goal best. All of this talking of feelings and stuff was pretty new to him, after all. Better to not rush things and fuck up again.   
He needed a plan.

So he wandered through Fortuna, made his way back the way he came here: on his feet and the ferry.

His travels came to a sudden halt the moment a surprised little boy crossed the street, blocked his way and starred at him.

“You… have the same hair!”

Vergil’s blood ran cold inside his veins. The kid was right.   
The same white hair, the same blue eyes, filled with childish wonder, reminding him too much of a younger version of Dante for it to be a coincidence.

“You’re a little bit young to run around on your own, aren’t you? Where are your parents?”

The boy immediately lost all of his former curiosity, his eyes now turned away, looking straight at the floor and answered in the tiniest voice Vergil ever heard:

“I don’t know. I never met them.”

So he had to live at an orphanage right now.

“How old are you?”

“Almost 10!”, the boy answered proudly. Yeah, it was definitely like a boy his age to make himself older than he actually was. And it definitely would add up. His last visit in Fortuna was about that long ago. There was no mistaking it. This little boy in front of him was his.

“What’s your name?”  
“Nero, and yours?”

Vergil had to laugh. Who in their right mind called a kid with hair white like snow “Nero”?

“I’m Vergil. Say, are you interested in coming with me?”

The kid was immediately suspicious of the funny stranger. Vergil couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little bit proud at that. The kid had good instincts.

“I think I should go now.”

And just like that Nero ran away. Vergil let him. He knew where to find him. And he knew that he had to get him out of there. He now had two people in his live he had to get better for.

  
A new goal that just had showed up middle in the streets of a city long forgotten.   
Becoming a father. For his son. Nero.  
All while trying to become a better person for his brother.   
Fortunately, Vergil was never one to shy away from a challenge.

To find the orphanage was really not that difficult.   
To get to talk to the right person for being allowed to take Nero with him, was hell, probably even worse than the ones he had to endure under Mundus. Because most of those humans here were just too dumb. Or just too ignorant to listen to him.

Couldn’t they see that Nero looked like him? Didn’t they care that he was his son? Why did they refuse to give the child to him? And why would they try to give him a different one? This was ridiculous.

“Enough!” Vergil growled and let some of his demonic energy surround him, “I’ll say it one last time, so listen closely. I’m here to get my son. White hair, blue eyes. Like mine. Either you get him this instant or I’ll do it myself.”

The human in front of him trembled in fear, but Vergil didn’t feel bad for her at all. He’d tried to be “nice” countless of times before and she just wouldn’t listen.

  
“You…. are my… dad?”

The tiny whisper let Vergil spin around. He hadn’t heard Nero approaching at all. He apparently had been too absorbed into his “conversation” with the administrator.

“Yes, I’m sure about that. Wasn’t that what you thought when you encountered me, Nero?”

The little boy looked away, a blush starting to form on his cheeks, before he managed to nod shyly. Vergil just had to smile at this adorable picture in front of him.

“Well then, pack up everything you want to take with you. Because we’re going home, little one.”

Before anyone could say something, Nero ran away while making a whooping sound. He seemed overjoyed, not suspicious of Vergil any longer.

“I suggest you ready the necessary papers. I want to leave as soon as possible.”

The command in his typical cold voice, as well as a stern glance, was enough to make her move quickly. Typing like crazy on her typewriter and handing him some papers just moments before Nero came back, a huge bag slung over his shoulder. It looked like he would topple over any second by the sheer weight of the poorly balanced bag.

“I just need to sign the papers and then we’ll leave. Be patient for a little while longer, okay?”

Nero just nodded enthusiastically and set the bag down.

Vergil turned to the lady again and started to fill out the blank spaces about his own person. The lady obviously was reading what he wrote and started to gap like a fish out of the water the second she read his last name.

Vergil had never bothered to think of a real one, he just took his father’s name. Demons had no use of a last name after all. And if he had to live like a human now, then at least with all reminders of his demonic heritage possible.

“S-S-Spar…da?”

“Any problems with that? Not my problem that you worship a demon as your god. My father was no god at all.”

With that he took his own papers, making him officially Nero’s father, and Nero’s bag, before leaving the orphanage once and for all. Nero followed him obediently.

“Where are we going now?”

Vergil stopped and looked at his son.

“I think it’s time we visit your uncle.”

Now with his child in tow, Vergil absolutely refused to use a portal to get back. He needed to get Nero familiar with their demonic heritage first. No need to rush things. He could see that all the things were already too much for the little boy. He was just ten after all.   
No, wait… almost ten. He was still nine.

While Nero was busy looking at everything during the ride on the ferry, Vergil wondered what happened to his mother.

The memories of her were faint, it had been just a one-time encounter and he’d left the same night afterwards to get back to Capulet City. To think that this little tryst was enough to produce this little one next to him… truly fascinating. But it didn’t matter who his mother was and where she ended up. She’d left Nero at the orphanage for almost 10 years, if he could trust the stuff this foolish human there told him, and now he was with him.

Dante and he would be a good family, give him a loving home.   
  
Vergil smiled. Yes, his twin would love the little one, spoil him rotten, always undoing his own parenting. They would protect him, nothing could ever so much as lay a single finger on him. No harm would come his way. Together they would train him, see him use his first weapon, see him defeat his first demon and acquiring his first devil arm.

He wondered. Was this how his own father had felt when he learned that he would have kids soon? Did he felt that proud and hopeful for the future the first time he held them?

“Dad?”

It took him some moments to recognize Nero’s voice and even some seconds more to understand, that he’d talked to him. It would take some time to get used to get called ‘dad’.

“Yes, little one?”  
“Your smile… who do you think of?”

He was an observant one, it seemed. Vergil just shrugged.

“Various things. But mostly I think about how your uncle is gonna react when seeing you the first time.”

Nero then wanted to know everything about his uncle. Vergil provided whatever he could, after all it had been some time he’d spent time with him without fighting and trying to kill each other.

“I guess I can’t describe him. You just have to meet him.”

Vergil was standing in front of the Devil May Cry. Two days had passed since he’d snuck out in the dead of night. How would his brother react? Would he be mad? Disappointed? Was Vergil still welcome after all?   
Oh he really hoped so.

He didn’t want to imagine a life without him. He’d promised to be a good brother, a good person, a good father. But without Dante? It felt impossible.

“Don’t worry. You said uncle Dante would love to see us. It’s gonna be alright.”

No words could describe the love he already felt for his son. He was the adult, he was supposed to provide support and cheer him up, take away his fears and insecurities, not the other way around.

“Thank you, Nero.”

With newfound confidence, he took the few steps to the front door, signalled Nero to stay back and opened the door.

Pain started to explode in his shoulder the very next moment as a bullet hit it. Nero’s terrified squeak was concealed by Vergil’s pained gasp and Dante’s enraged growl.

“You dare to show your face again?! After you just vanished the first moment I let you out of my sight!”  
“Dante-“  
“No! I trusted you Vergil! And as always you just left me behind! To do whatever you please! Not even once you wasted a single thought on me! How I feel about that!”

Dante always had been good at aiming for his weak points, but this one was really painful. He always thought about his twin nowadays! Even when he was thinking about his son, it was sooner or later connected to him. But he obviously had no way of knowing this. After all he was no mind-reader. And Vergil was too much of a scaredy-cat to tell him.   
It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. Also there was something more urgent to tell him first.

“My sincerest apologies, little brother. You see-“  
“I don’t care about your pretty little lies. Get out.”

Vergil forgot how to breathe. His eyes went unfocussed and he wasn’t able to move. All his thoughts just came to a screeching halt.

That was it. He really had done it this time. Dante had enough of him. He wasn’t welcome in his life, his house, to stand by his side. Vergil officially had lost everything he’d left.

  
A movement in the corner of his eye caught the attention of both half demons. Dante immediately pointed his gun at it, while Vergil’s body acted on instinct and teleported to Nero, wrapping his arms around him and shielding him from any harm.

“Dad! Are you okay?! Your shoulder…”

Nero was crying, his voice was thin and sounding so broken. He was beyond terrified. Vergil felt awful.

“No need to worry, little one. I’m fine.”  
“You said uncle Dante would love to meet me. But he’s so scary! He hurt you….”

Vergil sighed. Of course, this looked really bad to a nine-year-old. He really should’ve thought this through beforehand. But he was too caught up in his need to see his brother again, that he totally forgot to think of Nero too.

“I’m sorry, Nero. I think we should-“  
“Vergil…? Who is this kid?”

All the anger in his brother’s voice had vanished, made room for suspicion and wonder.

“Put away your weapon and I’ll tell you.”

Steps were echoing through the room and the tell-tale sound of metal hitting a wooden desk. Vergil let go of Nero and turned around to face his brother again, just slightly shielding him still. He knew that Dante wasn’t in need of any weapons to deal some serious damage.

“Talk.”  
“Maybe I should start at the beginning. I went to get Yamato back-“  
“Of fucking course you would. Nothing is more important than your fucking sword.”

Vergil was starting to feel annoyed with the antics of his twin.

“Stop interrupting me all the time. And stop swearing in front of my son. He’ll catch all the obscene words you’re sprouting all the time.”

That was finally enough to shut Dante up. And make him lean against his desk.

“…Son?”

Vergil sighed.

“Yes, my son. And seeing that you’re not interested to hear the story and my motivations to leave, just to get back as soon as possible I may add, let me introduce you to him.”

He turned around to look at Nero, who was just staring at him, apparently not too fond of the idea of getting to know his uncle.

“It’s fine.”  
“He hurt you! He’s a shitty person!”

Vergil again sighed. It seemed that Nero already knew some of the words he wanted to keep away from him.

“It’s complicated, but you can say that this is… some kind of greeting. We always do that when we meet each other. But seeing that you don’t like it, we of course won’t do it again, okay?”

Nero looked not convinced at all by this explanation. He was not moving a single inch.

“Look, nothing happened. I’m not hurt.”

Vergil shed his coat to show him his shoulder. The injury had vanished almost immediately after Dante had shot him, so there was nothing to see. Nero looked at it closely, totally baffled.

“It’s already gone… you… can do that too?”

Now it was on Vergil to look confused. What did the little one mean with “too”?

“Seems like he didn’t just get our good looks. Also inherited the better healing, huh?”

Dante seemed to have gotten over his initial shock already and made his way over to them to take a closer look at his nephew.

“He really looks like us back then. Way cuter than you ever were, though.”

Vergil smiled to himself. Exactly what he’d thought when he’d encountered Nero just one day ago.

“Yeah, he also reminds me greatly of you, little brother.” He answered in a soft voice, some would even describe it as fond. He really tried to let some of his feelings show in his voice. He was trying so hard to make this right.

  
A rumbling noise interrupted the tender moment. The twins looked puzzled to its source.   
Nero looked away from them, trying to hide his blushing cheeks from them, obviously ashamed that his belly announced his need for food at such an inappropriate time. Dante couldn’t refrain from laughing.

“Seems like our little guest is hungry. We should order pizza.”

Vergil was just about to reprimand his idiot brother for wanting to feed Nero unhealthy stuff like pizza and that it couldn’t considered being a decent meal in general in the first place, when he noticed how his son’s face was lighting up at the mention of pizza, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Pizza? I’ve never had pizza before.”

Dante’s eyes got comically big at that confession.

“Never… pizza? So many years… wasted… wait… how old are you anyway? 5?”  
“I’m almost 10, you old fart!”

Vergil was close to banging his head against somewhere, to escape this absurd situation. Dante just laughed.

“I already like the little guy, Vergil. He’s got quite the character.”  
“Less babbling, more pizza.”  
“He’s just like you, already ordering me around.”

Vergil couldn’t suppress the gentle smile.

“I knew you would like him. His name is Nero, by the way.”

Dante shot him an amused look while dialling the pizza-place.

“It wasn’t my doing naming him that, and you know it.”   
“I like it. It’s a cool name.”

Nero was busy blushing at the compliment, while he pretended to look around, just to scrunch up his nose afterwards.

“Did nobody ever teach you to clean after yourself?”

Vergil snickered at the dumbfounded expression his twin was showing, too stunned do finish the order he’d already started.

“Well, there you have it. Even a 9-year-old knows that your shop is a pigsty.”

Dante groaned and finished ordering, before sighing.

“I guess I have to start cleaning now with you two here, huh?”

Vergil’s heart skipped a beat at that. Did that mean that they’re allowed to stay? Even after everything that had happened?

“Take a seat, both of you. Make yourself at home here,” Dante started, before looking Vergil dead in the eye, “I guess you still owe me an explanation.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, while deciding where to sit. Did he dare to sit on the couch, as Nero had done? He was a really brave little guy. But on the other hand he’d encountered worse.

“Are you willing to listen this time? Or are you just going to interrupt me again?” He shot back while sitting down next to his son.

“You know me, bro. I’ll never shut up completely.”

_I definitely can think of some techniques I want to try to convince you otherwise._

Vergil shook his head slightly to get rid of those thoughts, before they spiralled out of control.

“I guess that’s the unfortunate case with you. But now, that we’re in no rush anymore. I suggest having this conversation later tonight.”

He could see that Dante wanted to argue, but a quick glance to the little one was enough for him to give in.

“Okay, then tell me something else: What’s your plan now?”

This caught Vergil off guard completely. Plan? Of course he… had none. His goal was to get back to Dante, get better for him and his son, work on their relationship, become a family. He achieved to cross off the first point of this list. But he definitely didn’t know how to go on. Where to go from here.   
He didn’t think he needed a plan. He just wanted to spend his life here, see where it takes them.

A big adventure with his brother and son. A journey to become a better version of himself. But admitting that to his brother? That he’s not following some complex plan? It would be a pretty cold day in hell when this happened.

“I’ll inform you about everything that concerns you in due time. For now… we really should figure out how to make your shop habitable. You’ve got some spare rooms up there, right?”

Dante’s face morphed into a thinking one.

“I guess? I mean… with Trish barging in and damaging the shop, there are not that many rooms suitable for use. Haven’t found the time to fix it yet. There’s one spare room, so two of us would have to share. Because sleeping downstairs on the couch is definitely not gonna happen.”

Vergil’s brain went blank, every thought just came to a sudden halt, every thinking process crashed at the thought of sharing a room and extension, a bed, with Dante.

_Too soon, too close. I’m not ready to face the truth. I’m not able to restrain myself, too new are those weird feelings._

“I guess you’ve got no problem sharing a room with your old man, huh, little one?”

All panicking subsided immediately.

_Oh, right. Of course Dante doesn’t want to share a room with me. He meant Nero and me sharing one._

Vergil couldn’t decide if he should be thankful for that though. Even as much as he panicked about it, he also kinda felt robbed by it. The opportunity to spend some time close to his twin after all those years apart. Even if he knew that he himself was to blame for that completely.

“I’m used to it. I always had to share all my stuff at the orphanage.”   
“Well, I also had to share all my things, because of some jealous little brother, who liked to snatch all my belongings,” Vergil teased.  
“You always paid them way more attention than me! Of course I had to take them away!” Dante tried to defend himself, which caused Vergil to smile fondly, which he quickly hid by looking around again.

_Always out for getting my attention. I was a fool for not noticing that this wasn’t an annoyance sooner. It was the greatest blessing I was ever granted in my life. I’m an idiot._

But now that he knew what a fool he’d been, he could do better.

Eating had been a quick affair, as Nero and Vergil were hungrier than they’d thought they would be, so it took close to no time for them to be finished with their meal. Even Dante was stunned into silence by their speed. Vergil almost felt embarrassed by it.

“So… the room?”

Yeah, he was definitely more than just a little bit embarrassed by it, and there was no way denying it. Dante knew where to look for the signs and he was able to see them clearly. He thought that it was really endearing to see his twin like that.

_Something about him is very different. I wonder what this is all about…_

“Sure, I’ll show you.”

To say that the room was not habitable would have been the understatement of the century.

“This is a joke, right?”  
“Well, no. It’s the only spare room left. And it…”  
“-Is a mash up of trash and demon weapons? And you expect my son to sleep in here? Between swords and other dangerous objects?”

Dante made a pained noise. He apparently hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I guess not… you’re right. I think we should just all share my bed for tonight. There’s enough space for all of us.”

Vergil wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected his twin to say, but this was not it. Sharing a bed with his son was fine. Sharing it with his twin was dangerous and way too intimate way too soon. But sharing it with both of them? The oldest son of Sparda felt like he’s going faint.

His thoughts were racing, but there was nothing coherent for him to grasp, unknown feelings were coursing through his body, overwhelmingly violent in their nature and dealing with them had never been Vergil’s forte anyway.

“Dad…?”

Nero’s tiny voice, sounding insecure, was enough to get him back on track.

“Everything’s fine, Nero. We’ll manage for tonight. Tomorrow we work hard to make at least one room for you habitable.”

Now that he was at least somehow in control of himself again, he turned to Dante.

“A shower would be in order. Also, considering the general state of your shop, I’d request that you change your sheets. I don’t want to sleep in your filth.”

Yes, that sounded like something he would say (read: demand). Dante actually started to smile and left the room.

“Sure thing, brother. You know where the shower is. I’ll try to find you another set of clothes in the meantime.”

After a quick shower for Nero and himself, they waited downstairs for Dante to finish setting up the bed and take a shower too.

“Dad?”

Vergil made a questioning noise in the back of this throat and looked at his son. He got used to getting called “Dad” sooner than he’d thought.

“Are we really going to stay here?”

That caught Vergil’s attention for real. Didn’t his son want to stay here? Was he still afraid of Dante? Or was it something entirely different?

“As long as Dante allows us to stay, we can… if you’re okay with that.”

The answer caused Nero to smile happily.

“I really like staying here. I like Dante. He’s weird and his shop is disgusting, but he’s nice.”

Vergil let out a breath he didn’t realized he was holding in. Hearing that was a relief. He really didn’t know where he could go. Without money, without a job, without connections. There was still a lot to do for him. But that was just a minor task on his list in comparison to all the other stuff he had to do.

A sniffling noise interrupted his thoughts. Alarmed he focussed on Nero again. The boy had averted his eyes.

“Nero, what-“  
“It feels… like home… all I ever.. wanted was… a family.”

It broke Vergil’s frozen heart to see his son like that. Without wasting a second thought on it, he pulled him into his arms and hugged him tight.

“What happened down here?”

Vergil just shushed Dante and gestured him to join their hug. Nero needed the comfort, the warmth. The security they could provide for him. And to say that Vergil didn’t enjoy how strong arms wrapped around them and held them tight would have been a pretty obvious lie.

And just like that, with them sitting on the couch in Dante’s shop, embracing each other in a bone crushing hug, giving each other the feeling of belonging, Vergil came to the conclusion that, yes, they could do that.

They could mend their broken bonds. They will be a family. For them. For Nero. And nothing will ever come between them ever again. Their little family of hybrids against the world. For now and forever. And maybe… just maybe, Vergil would be able to come to terms with his feelings and maybe they could be something more then.

But for now it was enough. For now he’d focus on being a good father as well as a good brother.


End file.
